


When Destiel Met Cockles

by undersail2013



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Decockstiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:27:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1206061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undersail2013/pseuds/undersail2013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mysterious doppelgangers are a little too friendly for Dean's comfort...</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Destiel Met Cockles

These two idiots were really pissing Dean right off. 

First of all, what were they doing with his and Cas’ fucking faces? That went beyond annoying; it freaked him out that this was happening _again_. But at least this time it wasn’t angel intervention. Not that they’d quite figured out _where_ these clowns “Jensen” and “Misha” came from, but Cas was fairly certain that it wasn’t some celestial bullshit, and Dean was inclined to believe him.

Second, these guys couldn’t keep their hands and eyes and feet and knees off each other. It was making Dean more than a little uncomfortable, all this touching and flirting. The guy who looked just like Cas smiling like a dork at the guy who looked just like him; the guy who looked just like him gazing (fucking _gazing!_ ) with fucking stars in his fucking eyes at the guy who looked just like Cas. It was definitely weird.

Third, if he was being honest, he was a little jealous. It pissed him off that _they_ could pull these shenanigans, but if _he_ so much as _looked_ at Cas-

Cas was looking back at him. _Fuck._

Dean rubbed the back of his neck and tried to crack a joke. “Geez Cas, how long before these assholes start making out, huh?”

Nodding, he replied calmly, “That would be a sight to see.” 

Dean froze. _Oh Jesus Christ, he’s serious._ He cleared his throat nervously. _Say something._ But what the hell could he say to that?

Cas lowered his chin, fixed Dean with a stern stare. It reminded Dean of _that look_ he’d given him in Bobby’s basement, a hundred fucking years ago. When Dean had deflected with an asshole remark and a wink. God, Dean had never gotten that image out of his mind, and here it was again, bright and fresh and ready to haunt his me-time all over again.

“Cas? You okay there?”

“I, um, forgot something in the car.”

“You-” He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He couldn’t catch a breath. “Yeah, uh, me too, I think I- yeah.” He grabbed at the cuff of Cas’ coat and half-dragged, half-raced him out of the building. Pretty sure there was a half-naked angel in his front seat with his name on it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm kinda pissed off, too... Is this what normal people think about when they're driving to work? Composing little scenarios about fictional dudes making out in the front seat of the Impala like their lives depend on it? Seriously?!


End file.
